


Gunsots and Shopping Carts

by snarkymuch



Series: Broken!Verse [13]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 08:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12527128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymuch/pseuds/snarkymuch





	1. Chapter 1

"Sammy, put that down, please," Dean said as he pushed the cart up the aisle.

Sam frowned, but put back the can of SpaghettiOs. He crossed his over his chest and stomped his foot.

"Oh, don't you start with this shit," Dean warned. "We already have cans of that stuff filling the cupboard. You need something healthier if we're going to get some meat back on your bones."

Sam huffed and looked down at the floor.

"Fine, one can," Dean said. He knew how to pick his battles, and he wasn't about to have an epic throw down in aisle two over a can of nutritionally challenged food.

Sam gave him a satisfied smile and then grabbed the can of SpaghettiOs, tossing them in the cart.

Dean rolled his eyes and then pushed the cart forward. "If we hurry, we can still make the game."

They made their way through the rest of the aisles, and as they rounded the corner to the checkout, something caught Dean's eye. The cashier's face was tight with fear and he was sweating, his hands rigid on the counter. Dean eyes surveyed the scene and his gaze came to rest on a figure in black.

Dean turned quickly and put a finger over his mouth, shushing Sam. Sam looked at him curiously but didn't speak. Dean grabbed his brother's shoulders and guided him back into the safety of the aisle.

Sam went to speak but Dean shook his head and whispered, "Sam, listen to me, okay?"

Sam nodded, staying silent. He must have known something was amiss as there was fear in his eyes.

"I need you to stay here," Dean said firmly. "No matter what you hear. You understand me?"

Sam pursed his lips but nodded tightly.

"Good, I'll be right back."

Dean peered around the corner of the aisle and caught sight of the robber. He was intimidating the young cashier, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him down to the counter.

"Hey, jerkwad," Dean said, reaching back and grabbing his gun. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

The robber turned, looking surprised. Dean saw the gun for the first time and swallowed. Maybe this wasn't going to be as cut and dry as he'd thought. The robber's hand wavered slightly as he pointed the gun at Dean.

"Wrong move, bucko." Dean raised his own weapon, leveling the sights on the robber. "Now, if I were you, I would put down that gun and call it a day."

Dean could hear the distant sounds of police sirens and he knew help was on its way. He only needed to stall this guy a bit longer and then the cops could swoop in and save the day.

Dean's sharp gaze caught the man's finger twitch just in time to hit the deck. "Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed as he pushed himself back up and ducked behind a nearby display.

"De?" Sam's voice came from the aisle. Dean looked over and Sam looking terrified. Dean put up a hand to stop him from coming closer, but it didn't work. Sam took a hesitant step forward, followed by another.

"Sammy, stay!" Dean snapped.

Sam wrung his hands and looked around, panicked. "De?"

"Please, Sammy. Don't move," Dean pleaded.

Sam's breaths began to come in pants, and Dean knew it wasn't long before his brother broke down.

Dean gripped his gun and leaned to look around the display. The robber caught sight of him, and a second later, another shot rang through the air.

Sam began to shake and stepped towards Dean again. "So help me god, Sammy, if you take another step!"

The robber came into view and Dean aimed, firing once. The bullet hit its mark and the robber stumbled back. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe that would be enough to scare the guy out of the store.

He glanced back at Sam, who was visibly shaking now. He fisted his hands at his sides and then he did it, he stepped forward again, right out into the open. Dean didn't have a second to react before he heard the next gunshot. He watched in horror as his brother's face contorted in pain and he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach, blood already seeping from between his fingers.

"De?"


	2. Gunshots and Shopping Carts Part Two

Dean watched as Sam collapsed in a heap on the floor. For a moment he was frozen, his heart feeling like it had stopped in his chest, gravity suddenly felt stronger, causing Dean to stumble as he tried to stand. Everything was a blur, he heard the robber jack another round. Dean spun to his feet, aiming and shooting in one swift move. He put three rounds into the man. He fell back against the window, sliding down, leaving streaks of blood on the pane of glass behind him.

The sirens were close. Dean could only hope they had dispatched paramedics, too. Without thought, he ran to Sam's side, falling to his knees beside him. He pulled his jacket off and balled it up, pressing it to the wound, cursing under his breath. The wound was in a bad spot. There was no way it hadn't hit something vital. The blood was already saturating the jacket and seeping between Dean's fingers. Dean felt helpless. The thought that this might really be it terrified him. He wasn't ready to lose him. He just needed him to hold on a bit longer.

Sam looked up at him with watery eyes. "De? Am I gonna die?"

"No, you're gonna be fine. Just a scrape." Dean tried to feign a smile but he knew Sam could still read him like a book.

A tear rolled down Sam's cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Don't ever say that, Sammy. Never." Sam nodded and his lower lip quivered. He looked terrified. Dean looked away, unable to hold his gaze. It was tearing him apart. He was losing his brother.

Dean tried not to focus on the warm blood he could feel trickling from the wound. He could hear the sirens out front. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the terrified cashier still standing there crying. "We need somebody now! Go get help!"

The cashier wiped her eyes and scurried out from behind the counter and out the door.

Dean looked back down at Sam and he sucked in a breath. Sam's eyes were closed and his looked dangerously pale. "Sammy!" Dean snapped. "Sammy! Wake up." Dean's heart raced in his chest. Where were the paramedics? Dean heard the door and looked up, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Hurry, please, my brother…" Dean said, looking down at his bloodied hands holding the jacket.

An older redheaded paramedic was first to their side. "You did good. Let us take it from here." The man grabbed Dean's shoulders and pulled him back. Dean hesitantly let himself be moved. He watched as the paramedics began their work. Dean was still clutching his jacket in his hands, holding it to his chest, Sam's blood dripping from it onto the tile floor.

The gurney came and they moved Sam onto it, IV bag laying across his chest.

The redheaded paramedic turned to Dean before leaving. "Were you hurt?"

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm okay. Where are you taking him?"

"St. Mary's. It's a few blocks away. You can meet us there."

Dean nodded, hands gripping the jacket so tightly he was shaking. "Yeah, okay. Don't let him... please. He's my brother." His plea fell from his lips like a prayer.

"We'll do our best. We gotta go." The medic jogged to catch up to his partner and then they were out the door.

It was all like a dream. Dean tried to will his feet to move forward but they remained frozen in place. He should have never tried to intervene. He should have taken Sammy out the back, kept him Safe. This was on him. The image of Sam standing there holding his bleeding stomach hung in his mind.

The sharp tone of sirens hit his ears and broke him free from his thoughts. He needed to get to Sam. The invisible force holding him in place released him and he ran for the Impala. He dialed Bobby's number as he peeled out of the lot.

"Bobby, where are you?" Dean asked, trying to grapple the phone while pulling turns at forty.

"Home, why?" Bobby grumbled. "What kinda trouble you get yourself into this time?"

"Bobby, listen. I need you up here. Sam's been shot. It's bad, Bobby." Dean looked and saw the illuminated letters of the emergency room ahead. "Gotta go, meet me at St. Mary's Hospital."

Dean pulled into the lot and parked across two places. He didn't care. He just needed to get inside. Everything he did seemed to take hours when it was only minutes. He blew through the doors and to the nearest desk. An older nurse with long, braided silver hair was standing there. She looked up at him with a soft expression. There were crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. She greeted him with a smile.

"My brother was just brought in, gunshot wound. Where is he?" Dean asked, looking around for any sign of him.

"Easy, there, kiddo. He's alright. They just brought him up to surgery."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, dropping his head into his hands as he leaned on the desk.

"How about some, coffee, love?" the nurse asked. "My names Sally and you are?"

Dean looked up a bit confused at first. Most of his experiences with nurses had been that they were old cranky witches, sometimes literally. He was taken aback by her kindness.

"Yeah, sure. Coffee would be good."

"And maybe we could clean you up a bit, too." She motioned for him to follow her. "Come on, I don't bite… hard." She laughed.

Dean raised a brow.

"Seriously, get over here. I'm old enough to be your granny, don't make me get out a spoon."

"Yes, ma'am." The banter was a welcomed relief from the stress but it didn't stop him from worrying over Sam. There was nothing for him to do though. It was in the surgeon's hands now. He knew Sally was right. He should get cleaned up. Sammy would freak if he saw all the blood.

Sally passed him a few towels and then held up a scrub top to him. "Looks about your size. Bathrooms around the corner, two doors down. Here's a bag for your bloody clothes. Get cleaned up and then I'll take you to where you can wait for your brother."

"Thanks," Dean said with a weak smile. He found the bathroom without a problem.

He had been in hospitals too much. After the accident he had been forced to learn to live everyday sleeping in chairs, eating vending machine food and washing up in bathrooms. This was nothing new.

He stripped off his shirt and put it in the bag. He walked over to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. His forearms were red with blood. He had some on his face, too. He turned on the faucet. He pumped some soap onto his hands and lathered up his arms. The water ran pink with the blood and he had to scrub it from his cuticles.

He never thought he'd be in this situation. Sam had been through enough. If Dean was ever sure of one thing, it was that there was no God. How could there be?

Dean kept scrubbing until his skin became red and raw. No matter how much he scrubbed, he could still see Sam's blood. A knock at the door stopped him. "Just a minute," Dean shouted over his shoulder. He turned off the water and grabbed the bag, heading out to find Sally.

He walked down the hall and around the corner. Sally was beside the desk.

"You look a lot nicer without all that blood. Now let's get you up to surgical. I gave them a call and got an update. The bullet hit his liver, but they were able to stop the bleeding. He should be out and ready for you to sit with in a bit."

Dean strode forward and wrapped her in his arms. "Thank you."

"Oh sweetie, I could tell the moment you came in you needed a little TLC. Let me bring you up to the waiting room."

Dean nodded and followed her to the elevator.

xXx

Dean lost track of the times he had checked his watch. It was minutes had become hours. The chair was rigid and made of plastic. He slid down, bouncing his head against the wall, trying to relieve the numbing pain from sitting so long. "I can't take this." He pushed himself to his feet. Sally had said a bit but it had been over three hours and no word. He'd already harassed the nurse at the desk and she was far less friendlier than Sally had been. Dean decided it might be worth another try for info and turned to walk back to the nurse. The nurse just scowled at him and shook her head, pointing him back to the waiting room.

Dean huffed and ran a hand through his hair. He walked back to the waiting room and slumped down in one of the chairs again. He closed his eyes, thinking he could catch a quick nap, but as soon as he did, he was assaulted by the memories of Sammy pleading his name. His eyes snapped back open and he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.

"Mr. Winchester?" A voice came from the doorway.

Dean's head snapped up and he jumped to his feet. "Yeah, that's me. How's my brother?'

"We need to talk. The surgery went well, but we needed to sedate after he woke up."

"Why?" Dean asked, confused.

"He became hostile, fighting the nurses. We had to restrain him."

"You restrained my brother!" Dean roared, charging the doctor.

The doctor put his hands up, backing himself up to the wall, stumbling against the chairs. He held his clipboard up like a shield.

"He wasn't making sense. He was fighting us. He kept shouting for someone named De." The doctor was shaking as Dean stared him down, hands at his sides in fists. "He almost hit me."

Dean pointed a finger at him. "If you so much as—" Dean couldn't finish. He took a second to collect himself. The thought they let him wake up alone tore Dean apart. "Sammy," Dean paused. "Sam, he's not like you and me. He's sensitive. He needs extra care." Dean took a step closer to the doctor and pointed his finger into his chest. "If you ever, I mean ever, restrain, sedate, manhandle him again, I swear to you, it will be the last thing you do."

The doctor nodded his head and slid sideways away from Dean. "Follow me, I'll take you to your brother."

Dean smiled darkly and gestured for him to lead the way.

The doctor scurried along the hall, clutching his clipboard, occasionally looking back over his shoulder for Dean. The doctor stopped outside a room that sat across from a nurse's station, door was open and curtain drawn back. Dean imagined so that they could more easily watch him. It sent a wave of anger through him. He needed to contain himself though. He would be no help to Sam in jail for assault.

Dean stepped into the doorway and what he saw broke his heart. Sam was laying still, covered with a blanket but his wrists were clearly bound to the bed. Without thought, Dean stepped forward and his hands went to work undoing the bindings. He couldn't leave his brother bound like some animal.

"Hey, you can't do that." Came a female voice from the hall. Dean just ignored it. Then he heard the doctor's voice telling her to let it go. Good choice, Dean thought to himself.

Dean smoothed the blanket and brought a hand up to Sam's face, brushing his hair out of eyes. Dean smirked. Sammy was starting to look like a shaggy dog these days, even more than usual. He thought maybe that once they got home, he'd treat Sam to spa day. He deserved it. Dean chuckled at the image of Sammy in a robe getting his toes done. He always did like the girly shit.

Sam groaned and Dean rubbed a thumb over the Sam's cheek. "Hey, buddy. About time you start waking up."

Sam's face tightened and then he yawned. His eyes blinking open. "De?"

"Yeah, Sammy, in the flesh. Not going anywhere either. I'm going stay right here until you're better."

Sam studied his face for a moment. His brow furrowed and he looked serious for a moment. "I told them I needed you."

"I know you did, kiddo. You did the right thing. It wasn't you." Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair.

Sam yawned, blinking blearily.

Dean knew he needed to rest. "Why don't you close your eyes and rest. Bobby will be here tomorrow. I bet he brings you some ice cream."

Sam grinned. "Chocolate?"

Dean laughed. "Sure, whatever you want." And Dean meant it. He would give Sam the world if he could.


End file.
